Surprise Party
by Kyra Z Bane
Summary: Phil turns up early for his surprise party – so the Avengers send Clint out to distract him. (M/M)


They only elected Clint because they were blaming him for being behind in the first place.

The plan had been simple: Phil's return to active duty also heralded his appointment as the Avengers' handler and Stark had decided that a celebration was in order on both counts. Of course, with Stark being who he was, it meant that he suggested the idea and then left the fine details (or any details, really) to everyone else. He'd holed himself up in the lab for two days and had come back out this morning, excited for the party that hadn't really been planned.

So it was that an hour before Phil was due to arrive – Fury had told them fourteen-thirty, on account of the paperwork that still needed to be done, because apparently coming back from the (almost) dead entailed a hell of a lot of it – Steve was painstakingly painting a banner and Clint was doing his best to irritate everyone.

It was born out of a kind of nervousness; he'd not gone to the hospital with Nat when they'd been told the news. He'd not been sure how to face Phil after everything that had happened.

"It's hanging crooked," he called out later, when the banner was finally finished (though not entirely dry). "The left, pull it up."

Nat stood next to him and narrowed her eyes. "It looks fine to me."

Clint's palms itched. He longed for his bow and a target. Phil was going to be here in thirty minutes and-

Nat turned before he did. "That's a car," she said. Everyone froze; it would have been comical, if not for the way Clint's heart suddenly hammered against his rib cage.

"He can't be here _early_?!" Tony exclaimed, like he didn't understand why anyone would do that. Clint glanced at Pepper briefly. No, Tony wouldn't understand.

"I'll go and keep him out of here," Pepper said, getting down from the step ladder she was precariously balanced on. She handed off the banner to Bruce, but Nat shook her head.

"You go," she said to Clint. Everyone stopped again and even Tony didn't say anything this time. When Clint hesitated, she added, "You're not being helpful."

Clint opened his mouth, but Nat had _that_ look in her eye and it wasn't as if they had time to argue. Besides, if he got it over and done with- "Fine," he said.

He shut the door, taking one deep breath to steel himself. The elevator dinged, at the end of the hall, and Clint pushed off, walking towards it.

It was an entirely different thing, thinking about how he would react compared to what happened. Seeing Phil for the first time was like a punch to the gut. Not because he looked small, or broken; Clint had seen the footage and had been expecting some sign of the injury, but- He looked like he always had. Infallible. Untouchable.

"Agent Barton," Phil said as he stepped out of the elevator, the slight quirk of his lips achingly familiar. Clint's throat was dry. "Where are the others?"

"They'll be with us momentarily, sir," Clint replied.

Phil ducked a nod at that and Clint figured he probably knew; he'd probably guessed before Tony had even thought of it. He knew them all so well.

"How-" Clint cleared his throat and began again, "How are you feeling, sir?"

"Fine."

_God,_ had it been this awkward before? Clint couldn't remember it ever being, but right now he felt like a teenager, fumbling his way around an unknown situation. It was ridiculous. He was a grown man, for fuck's sake!

Phil's eyes narrowed, as if he'd just now noticed something was off. "Is everything okay, Barton?"

"Fine, sir."

Agent Coulson, the man Clint had known before the Loki fiasco, would have left it at that. He knew when to push and when not to and generally didn't over-complicate situations that didn't need it. Clint knew there was something different when Phil took a step closer.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

There was enough concern in that tone to startle Clint. He swallowed, unsure how he was supposed to keep Phil out here for thirty minutes- especially when he was looking at him like _that_-

He could feel the heat coming from Phil's body now, could smell the spice of his cologne. Clint ached to reach, to touch, but he'd promised himself that he wouldn't cross that boundary, not for anything. He couldn't see that again-

"Clint?"

Oh, hell.

Clint grabbed Phil by the lapels of his jacket, pulling him in for a kiss that was as much desperation as it was passion, a kiss that was messy and uncoordinated and should have been embarrassing. He felt Phil smile against his lips and a slightly trembling hand touched his cheek, the other marking a brand on his hip. Phil took control of the kiss, backing Clint up against the wall – Clint gasped when his back hit it and then Phil's tongue was in his mouth, moving languidly against his own.

They pulled apart slowly and when Clint loosened his grip, he saw the wrinkles in the fabric and winced.

"Clint," Phil said again, tipping Clint's chin so he'd look up.

Clint almost didn't meet his eyes, but he managed it in the end. "I'm sorry I didn't come to see you in the hospital," he said. "I'm sorry I didn't get in touch at all, after- I'm sorry."

Phil smiled. "It's okay. Nat told me the worst of it." Clint winced at that, but a thumb stroked under the hem of his shirt and he relaxed into the touch. "Besides, I know you. You needed time."

Clint nodded at that. There was no one knew him better than the two of them; he should have known that. "Okay. I was also-" He waved a hand around, gesturing between them. "This. There's this."

Phil's chuckle was deep and the heat in his eyes made lust curl in Clint's gut. "There is this," he agreed.

When Clint didn't reply, Phil kissed him again. Clint tightened his hands on solid shoulders and Phil pushed a thigh between Clint's legs as he crowded closer. When he pushed up, Clint pulled away with a moan, already half-hard and panting.

"We shouldn't- Not _here_."

Not in this hall, with everyone else a few feet away. Clint pulled Phil closer for another hard kiss, then pulled back, letting his eyes rake over Phil's face. He wanted them both in a bed (though against the wall was always an option for later).

"Later," Phil said, brushing a kiss over Clint's lips. Clint ached for more, but the others could come out at any moment-

Nat cleared her throat from their right and Clint let his head drop back against the wall with an irritated sigh. Phil didn't even let go. He turned his head and said, "Agent Romanov?"

"We're through here, sir," Nat replied. There was a spark of humour in her eyes when Clint chanced a look at her. For the love of-

"I'll join you in just a moment, agent."

Nat nodded and withdrew, though the little smirk on her face meant that, yes, everyone would know and yes, he'd get teased for it later.

Phil kissed him again, nibbling at Clint's lower lip as he pulled away. "We'll carry this on later," he said. It was a wicked promise, punctuated by Phil's thigh pressing up against Clint's clothed erection again.

"Oh _God. _I'm going to hold you to that."

Phil grinned wickedly and took a step back. He ran his hands over his suit and suddenly it was Agent Coulson, though Clint thought he could still see the spark in his eyes. "Come on, Agent Barton. I think I'm late to my own surprise party."


End file.
